


Fight Fire With Fire

by sansalannistark



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jaime is an ass, Romance, Sansa is a flirt, Sexual Content, Smut, jealous!jaime, mentions of bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 02:18:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12973563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansalannistark/pseuds/sansalannistark
Summary: Sansa has had just about enough. Jaime’s been absent and she takes matters into her own hands to grab her husband’s attention, even if he has plans of his own.For Janinsa, who requested a married Jaimsa at a party where someone hits on Sansa and Jaime gets a little growly...Rated E to be safe :)





	Fight Fire With Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Janina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janina/gifts).



Jaime doesn’t just dislike Harrold Hardyng. He downright hates the man.  
  
You would think, having been married for a year and with Sansa for years beforehand, the foolish boy would have learned not to flirt with her, but no, he persists. From the moment they walk in together Harrold is making eyes at her. The minute Jaime wanders off to talk to Tyrion and grab a drink, the boy corners her, playing all his usual tricks. Sansa, he knows, would never reciprocate. In the early days, his jealousy roamed wild like a loose beast but he has since found his his worries unfounded. Sansa loves him, would never truly flirt with another. She tolerates Harry, makes small talk, smiles warmly, but her eyes always find his with a side roll or a sigh.  
  
This evening though, she doesn’t look at him. Jaime knows - knows - it’s irrational, but each time Harry flashes her a smile, he feels it dig into his gut and his fingers clench the whiskey glass just a little tighter. Tyrion, of course, eyes Jaime’s annoyance with a raised brow.  
  
“Jealous, brother?”  
  
“If that Hardyng boy doesn’t stop flirting with my wife I’ll-”  
  
“Easy, Jaime,” Tyrion laughs, placing a hand on his brother’s arm. “I’m sure father wouldn’t appreciate a brawl at his precious gala.”  
  
“Fuck father,” Jaime growls. The next second he practically lurches from his seat. Tyrion drags him back, following his line of sight: Harrold has put a hand on Sansa’s arm as he chats to her and Jaime is practically foaming at the mouth. Tyrion is sure he hears something along the lines of ‘Get your hands off my wife’ but he knows his brother won’t do anything too rash and he hops down from his seat happily.  
  
“Jaime, calm down. I shall go and rescue Sansa and bring her here if you are that worried.”  
  
“Just hurry up,” Jaime seethes, his gaze fixed on the redhead and the blonde. Tyrion walks off but Harry must say something amusing because now his wife is laughing, her red hair cascading down her back as she tips her head back. Jaime is about ready to knock down the puffed up twat but luckily his brother reaches the pair and whispers something to Sansa. She does not turn around but whispers something back in his ear before Tyrion nods and returns - without Sansa.  
  
Jaime is out of his seat in seconds. “Well?”  
  
Tyrion laughs, shaking his head to himself and Jaime’s eyes widen with worry. What if Sansa has fallen for Harry, what if she thinks he’s too old for her and she wants a younger-  
  
“Jaime,” Tyrion explains, seeing the fear on his brother’s face, “Sansa is fine. She said, well, she thinks you’ve been neglecting her. I think she’s flirting to punish you. It’s fine.”  
  
Jaime almost doubles. Neglect? It’s true he’s been busy lately, but so has she and… well, he could have spent more time with her but he never thought his sweet wife would resort to something so underhanded to grab his attention, though she’s not unaccustomed to manipulation. _Little she-wolf._  
  
A idea springs to mind as she watches Sansa blatantly flirt with the boy and his face takes on its accustomed smirk. “I know precisely how to get her back.”  
  
“Oh dear… I don’t like that smirk.”  
  
“No, well we’ll see what my wife thinks of flirting when I’ve had a word with her.”  
  
“Something tells me there isn’t going to be a lot of talking going on.”  
  
“I don’t suppose there will.” If it is possible, Jaime’s smile widens as he strolls towards Sansa. Tyrion just sits back and orders another scotch.  
  
Jaime doesn’t announce his presence, but he slides up behind Sansa. Pressing his lips close to her ear, whispers: “Outside. Now.” Sansa twists and shoots his an expression of confusion but makes her excuses. Jaime delightfully notes Harrold’s disappointment.  
  
They are barely outside when Sansa begins to speak. “Jaime, what is this about?”  
  
“What, you flirt with Harrold all evening and you don’t expect me to notice?”  
  
Sansa sighs, rolling her eyes. “Of course I knew you’d noticed! I was annoyed, okay, I just-”  
  
He cuts her off by striding towards her and slamming his lips against hers. “Naughty girl,” he whispers.  
  
“So it did work?”  
  
“You clever, wicked girl. Do you have any idea how much I want you right now?” Jaime runs a hand down her back and sides his hand under her skirt, teasing at the edge of her panties as she sighs blissfully into his mouth.  
  
“I have some idea. Perhaps you should show me, Mr Lannister?”  
  
“Happy to oblige, Mrs Lannister. As long as you behave yourself.” He feels her moan against his neck as he slides his fingers inside her, pressing her against the wall.  
  
“I should make you jealous more often.”  
  
“I’m not quite sure there’s any need for that.” Sansa smiles, small whimpers leaving her lips as she presses her hips back against his fingers.  
  
This marriage thing isn’t turning out too bad after all. Sansa lets out another mewl and he chuckles. “Eager little thing.”  
  
“Harder. Please, Jaime.” Sansa bucks up against him but he chooses to remove his fingers and she groans, hitting him lightly on the arm and begins to reach down with her own fingers but he grabs her hands before she can.  
  
“Ah ah, this doesn’t look like behaving yourself, does it?”  
  
“Oh gods, Jaime! You must be joking!” Sansa slumps against him, with a half hearted eye roll. “I was joking around with Harry!”  
  
Jaime dips closer to her neck, tracing her pulse point with his lips but still not touching her. “ _I_ didn’t think it was joke,” he rumbles, sliding a hand to rest on her lower back and pressing up against her so she can feel his hard length against her. Still, he refrains from touching her and he is satisfied to see her desperation as she tries to seek friction by grinding her hips back against hm. Immediately, he steps back and Sansa growls herself, slamming a hand against the stone wall behind her with as she glares at him.   
“Okay, what do you want me to say?”  
  
“You’re mine, Sansa. We swore vows, I am yours and you are mine. I want you to be mine.”  
  
Sansa nods slowly, letting her hands drop to her sides. Just as her gaze falls, Jaime grabs her arms and pushes her back against the wall, biting down gently on her neck and sucking the skin hard into his mouth. Sansa cries out and throws her hands around his neck. “Say you’re mine.”  
  
“Jaime-”  
  
“Say it,” he murmurs, already sliding her panties down as she works on the zipper of his pants. “Please.”  
  
“I’m yours,” she groans. Jaime hitches her up and she wraps her legs around his waist as he finds her mouth with his. “I’ve always been yours, foolish man. And you are mine.” Jaime bites her lower lip, tasting the champagne in her mouth as he smiles, moving his lips feverishly over hers.   
  
“That’s my girl.”   
  
He doesn’t hesitate, sliding inside her with a low growl. As they both begin to move, his wife kisses him again, chasing his mouth again and again and again until they are breathless. “Harder, Jaime,” she manages, panting hot against his neck. Jaime shifts so that he’s going deeper inside her and she cants her hips harder against him in response, fingers digging into his arms. Jaime’s groans get louder as Sansa reaches her peak, arching back against him and he spills inside her not long after, crying out her name like a battle cry as he clutches her against him. Sansa’s cheeks are flushed and glowing, but when she glares at him and her head darts around nervously he almost laughs.  
  
“Jaime, someone could have heard!”  
  
“That _was_ the objective, my love. Otherwise, how would people know what we were doing?” he banters, enjoying the bright blush covering her face as she squeals.  
  
“Jaime! You sly, cruel-”  
  
“Oh, I’m cruel?” he laughs, pulling out of her and straightening up. He fixes his clothes as she tugs her panties back on with a huff. “If I recall correctly, you were rather loud too, sweetheart.”  
  
“Yes, but half of King’s Landing surely heard you shouting my name!”  
  
“I’m sure you’re not entirely adverse to the idea… in fact, I’m sure you rather liked it.” His eyes twinkle as he darts away from her playful blow, chuckling slightly at her annoyance. Sansa fixes the straps of her dress, but she can’t resist smiling back all the same.  
  
“Obnoxious bastard.”  
  
“Now, now, that’s not how you address a husband is it?” Jaime shakes his head, folding his arms as he stares at her, trying to supress another smirk. “Perhaps I ought to teach you a lesson, Mrs Lannister.”  
  
Sansa’s breath catches and her hands still on her skirt as she holds his gaze. Jaime walks towards her slowly, deliberately, bringing his lips close to her ear. “Perhaps my naughty girl needs a spanking.” When Sansa moans and her legs almost buckle beneath her, he allows himself to think it: _victory_. “I think it’s time to go home, my love.”  
  
Sansa mumbles yes, but in her mind, she’s already picturing the rope she’s kept under the bed and how she’s going to distract Jaime long enough to tie him up. He is _not_ winning this battle. Not if she has any say in it.

 


End file.
